Into the Darkness
by Zariha321
Summary: "Without a word, without fear, I nod my head. Before I know what's happening the man has me in his grasp and before I pass out, I realize that he's sunk his teeth into my neck." This story may become M if I feel it's getting too graphic, which vampire stories tend to become a bit graphic.
1. Chapter 1

New Orleans- 1789

The man stumbles through the empty streets of the French Quarter, having been thrown from yet another smelly brothel. He's a spoiled man with little responsibility other than to drown himself in the spirits and women of Storyville. He's the son of a prominent plantation owner who is known for his brutality and cruelness to his son and his slaves. In spite of his father's vindictive nature, the man still makes his drunken exploits a habit. He staggers on the street, trying to right himself by reaching out for the closest object. It's only when he collides into a creole woman walking down that he seems to notice where he is. He crashes his six foot three muscular build into the unwitting woman forcing them both to lose their balance and topple to the ground. She curses in French as the drunken man finds himself lying face first in the mud.

"Vous idiot stupide," the woman shouts at the man lying in the mud.

"Vache ignorante," he grumbles as he pulls himself out of the mud.

The woman continues down the street fuming, as the man stumbles back toward the row of pubs lining Bourbon Street. When he finds a place that he's never been before, he stumbles inside. This pub is darker and dirtier than most, regardless the man saddles up at the bar and orders a glass of whisky.

"Ne trouvez-vous pas que vous avez besoin de plus de boire ce soir?" a stranger asks from a few seats away.

"My drinking habits are none of your concern," the man growls at the intruder.

"My apologies," the stranger says with a strong French accent. "You just seem as though you've been out for a while tonight."

The man smirks at the handsome stranger. The stranger has long dark hair and he wears the clothes of a wealthy man, yet he sits in this pub among the dirt and vermin.

"I've been around a bit this evening. Who may I ask are you? I don't believe I've ever seen you around here before," the man asks.

"I am Maximus. I live just north of here, but am checking out the Mississippi Valley. I think it's time for a change of scenery," he says through his French accent.

"Well sir, I believe you have chosen a questionable part of New Orleans. There are much more prominent areas."

"This area is just fine," Max says. "And who may I ask are you?"

"I am Tobias. My father owns a plantation just south of here in Destrehan."

"The son of a plantation owner, I think I find you in a questionable area as well then," Max acknowledges.

Tobias looks at the strange man sitting near him. He's got a peculiar porcelain quality to his skin. He's extremely pale and his skin is completely flawless, his hair is long and flowing. This man has an ancient aura about him. Tobias isn't sure why this man who looks to be only a few years older seems as though he belongs in another time.

Tobias focuses on the drink in front of him, but he can feel the man's gaze boring into him. He acknowledges the man's presence once more and nods.

"For me, I need to get away from that plantation and it's owner as often as possible."

"I see," Max says. "I could possible help you with your troubles for a price."

"And what would that price be sir, as I have no income of my own I'm afraid any price would be too high."

"The price would not be money, my price would be much deeper than what money could bring. My price would be a partnership of sorts. I'm an older man, I could use a companion in my exploits."

Tobias just snickers to himself. He means no disrespect, but this man seems insane offering friendship for his help. No one could help him with his problems with his father.

"Well sir, it was nice to meet you however I must be going. My father doesn't look kindly on my drunkenness so I must arrive home before he awakens."

Max nods his head toward Tobias, "Maybe we shall meet again."

Tobias bows and quickly removes himself to the streets of the French Quarter.

:::

Tobias' POV

When I arrive home, I can tell that there are already lanterns lit in the front of the house. Knowing that my father must be awake, I take a deep breath of the crisp early morning air and grudgingly enter the home of my tormentor.

"Mon fils insolent, où diable avez-vous été?" my father shouts from in front of the fireplace as I enter the room.

"I'm sorry father, I've been in the French Quarter on business."

"You mean getting drunk. I can smell the whisky on you, you insolent fool." I know better than to argue with this man, but I can feel the anger building in my chest. I hate him with every fiber of my being. If I thought I could get away with it, I would murder him in his sleep. But even if I could, I wouldn't do it simply because one of the slaves would end up being blamed and put to death for my misdeeds and that is not an acceptable consequence. Already a slave was hanged when they found my mother brutally beaten to death only months ago. In spite of my pleas that it was my father, no one believed it. They thought I was raving because of grief or sorrow.

I shake my head, attempting to clear the cobwebs that have formed in my mind from my evening of drinking. I need to try to appease him, at least until I can get the hell away from him. "I'm sorry father," I say. My thoughts and feelings for this man betraying my seemingly pensive front. My anger rising more as my father's black pits bore into me, making me feel as though he will devour my soul.

"Vous êtes une honte, come here," my father growls at me.

On his command, I approach the man cautiously, I know he's going to lash out but there is no way to stop him unless I fight against him. My father quickly grabs me by the throat and thrusts me against the wall. He's a deceivingly fast and powerful man and as much as it pains me, the only way I will come out the winner of a battle against him is if I allow the anger to take me over. That's just a feeling that I'm not quite ready to experience. I'm scared to death that if I allow the fury to fuel me, I may turn into him.

"I will not have the heir of my fortune disrespecting me by spending your time among the dregs of society."

Out of the corner of my eye I see him slowly and carefully pull the iron that he was using to stoke the fire from the flames. He brings the white hot end toward my face and shows it to me. "I could destroy the handsome face that the socialites have come to love and admire, then where would you be? You are nothing but a pathetic piece of shit," he growls. He brings the hot poker closer to my face, threatening to place a brand on my face. Then he quickly moves the poker and jabs it into my side. I swallow screams that threaten to erupt from my throat as the metal burns through my clothes and deep into my skin. He releases my throat and I drop to the floor, clutching at my ravaged ribcage.

"Pathetic fool, get up and get that looked at by Marguerite," my father commands me. "Do not go against me again."

I glare toward the man, plotting my revenge for my tormentor. I can no longer allow this to happen. He will burn for his sinful ways, I'll make sure of it.

I clutch my side as I make my way into the kitchen where Marguerite stands by the counter with herbs and other medicinal items, waiting to fix whatever damage my father has inflicted today. The unfortunate thing is, her witchcraft will never be enough. She will never have the right herbs or potions to fix the real damage my father has inflicted on me.

"Maître Tobias, quand vous apprendrez à écouter votre père?" she asks me.

"I will mind mon père when he dies," I growl.

"Les dégâts sont terribles, maître."

"Just cover it over, Marguerite." I tell her. The sadness in her beautiful brown eyes brings me out of my anger. I pull her to me. Our relationship could get us both killed, but since when has that stopped me? Her honey brown skin is warm and inviting and her long black hair is hidden beneath the wrap surrounding her head. "I'll live, mon amour," I whisper and press my lips to hers.

"We cannot, Master. If your père finds us."

I don't say a word, I simply pull her from the kitchen toward the room that she calls her own. When we enter her room, she has a look of terror in her eyes.

"What is wrong mon amour?"

"We cannot," she whispers. "Your père…" her voice fading off and her eyes focusing on something that no one else can see.

"My father what?" I growl at her.

She doesn't say a word, but she doesn't have to. My father has claimed her as his own and has forced himself on her. A crime he could be hanged for, but the slaves and especially Marguerite will not say a word against him out of fear.

Suddenly I'm seeing nothing but red as I push out of her room and through the house. I no longer care for his punishments, I only care about revenge.

Marguerite follows close behind and pulls me into an empty room before I find my father.

"What do you want Marguerite?" I demand.

"Please, Maître Tobias, please don't. I am fine. He cares for me. Please…" she begs with tears streaking down her face.

I look into her beautiful face that is full of fear and sorrow and simply bow my head. "As you wish mon ami. I will retire for the day. Please wake me later."

I tromp to my room wanting nothing more than to rid my world of the bane of my existence. For now however, I'll have to find another way.

:::

I wake hours later to see the sun setting in the sky. The blues, purples, pinks, and oranges of the autumn sunset bring me only the smallest joy as this was a time that I would spend with my mother, enjoying the crisp evening air and taking in the beauty before us. Now I find it difficult to enjoy such beauty when the person that opened up my world to the beautiful things in life was taken so brutally.

I walk into the dining room to find my father sitting and eating alone. Marguerite stands like a sentry in the corner waiting to tend to my father's slightest whim. I know the circumstances aren't her fault, but I can't help the hurt of her rejection. I know the affair would have been wrong, but her warmth and caring are all that is left of the happiness that I used to feel in this house. Now there's nothingness.

"Gentil à vous joindre à moi, Tobias," my father says in a low grumble.

"I'm not joining you, I'm going out," I growl deep in my throat. From the corner I can see Marguerite flinch at the sound of my voice. My father however doesn't make a move or say a word. He continues to eat without any further acknowledgment of my presence. I turn to leave and just before I'm out of the dining room my father speaks.

"You are no longer welcome in this home. If you want to continue with your ruinous behavior you will do it without my money."

"I don't need your money," I snap.

I barge out of the house and into the chilled autumn night. Furious I make my way back to Storyville to the pubs to try to get my mind off of the situation in my father's house and to find a room for a few nights.

I enter the same dive pub that I was in just last night. It's dark and desolate but it's private and none of the women that frequent the brothels will bother coming in here. I have no desire for female companionship tonight.

I move into a stool at the bar and order a whisky. Taking a deep breath I gather in the aroma of peat and smoke from the whisky, the smell of saw dust on the floor, and the dense smell of smoke from cigars and cigarettes hanging in the air. The bartender occupies himself with the other patrons but there aren't many bodies in this dank place to keep him busy for long.

When he moves back toward where I sit to refill my quickly emptied glass I stop him for a moment. "Do you have a room for rent?" I ask.

"Sure, I have a room," he tells me. He moves to the other side of the bar and rifles around in a drawer. When he returns be brings with him a key. "Upstairs, second door on the right. I ask five dollars a night."

I shove my hand in my coat pocket and take out money that I made sure to take from my father's safe before leaving the house. I hand the man twenty-five dollars. "I'll take it for five nights."

He looks at me and quickly takes the money from my grasp without a word. He refills my whisky once more before moving back to the other patrons.

"Retour encore une fois, je vois," says a familiar voice. His voice is low, smooth and calming. It surprises me that a man of such obvious stature seems to frequent a place like this.

"Well, I'm staying here, so I suppose I'll be around," I say.

"Tell me, what causes a man such as yourself to room in a place like this?"

"What causes a man of such stature to frequent a place like this?" I growl in return.

He lets out a hearty laugh at my obvious annoyance. "The stature of a man cannot be determined my clothing. I'm sure you can name men that have acquired high stature in the eyes of other men, but are still the scum of the earth."

"I can indeed, stranger. What was your name again?"

"Maximus, but you can call me Max. Tell me about this man in which you refer."

I don't know what compels me to speak to this man, but I find myself telling Max about my father, my mother's murder, the abuse I've endured, and my disownment.

"Sounds to me that you should be the one to disown him," Max tells me. "What if I told you that I could show you a whole new world where the sins of your father could be avenged? What if I told you that I could show you a world that you would never have to endure the pain of abuse again?"

"I'd say you're crazy. And what would make you want to show me such a world anyway? You don't even know me."

Max seems to ponder my questions before he leans in close, "Because I've been seeking a companion for quite some time, Tobias."

I look at him in shock, "Sorry Max, but I'm not seeking that sort of companionship from a man."

"No Tobias, you misunderstand. I'm seeking a," be pauses for a moment, "business partner. Not a partner for the bed."

"What sort of business?" I ask. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't the slightest bit interested in what this strange man has to say. He's so well spoken, I imagine he could charm any woman into his bed, or any man for that matter.

"It's not something that I prefer to advertise. But if you come with me, I could show you. But first I must know if you would be willing to come with me."

I simply nod. I can't believe I'm so enthralled with this stranger that I'm willing to follow him. It's as though his soft, soothing voice has placed me in a trance.

I finish my whisky in one large gulp and follow the man dressed all in black out of the pub and into the cool night. We walk for some time in silence and before I realize where we are, we are standing in front of my father's home.

"I know what this man did to you last night. I can take away the pain that he inflicted. I can make your body heal and become unblemished from your father's punishment. I can also dispose of your father and he would never be able to return. But I only ask one thing. You allow me to live in this house with you and we become partners."

"What? How?" I ask confused about what he's offering.

"Tobias, take my hand," he commands. He reaches out his long thin fingers that are topped with long pointed nails, like small daggers at the end of each digit. "I can give you eternity, I can give you the chance for a life without pain, without illness, without fear. I can be your friend, your mentor, your father. All I ask is your loyalty to me."

Without a word, without fear, I nod my head. Before I know what's happening Max has me in his grasp and before I pass out, I realize that he's sunk his teeth into my neck.


	2. Chapter 2

I awaken to the sound of silence. I look around and finds that I'm in my bed in my father's house. What if the events of last evening were nothing but a vivid dream? What if what I'm so sure that I remember about the pub and the stranger and the deal were nothing but the ravings of my fevered mind? Then the pain in the side of my neck and the weakness in my body prove that something unusual happened. It could be the pain from another burn from my father, maybe I just don't remember his latest punishment. I try to sit up so that I can figure out what's happening but I barely have enough strength to move or even breathe. Nausea and dizziness overwhelm me as I attempt to move. I slump back down into the softness of the mattress, suddenly wishing for death to take me. From across the room I notice a presence, a sound from within the shadows.

"The deed is almost done. I've drained you almost to death. If I leave you now, you will die within hours, maybe less. However if you say the word, I can provide you with new life."

I try to sit up and see the face that is attached with the voice, even though I'm sure I know the voice to belong to Max. He comes over to me and places his hand on my shoulder and pushes me down into the mattress with little effort. My strength and power gone, I've never felt so weak and powerless. "Drained me of what?" I croak out in a whisper.

"Blood of course. I ask you now, do you want my gift? Do you want death or eternal life?" Then he moves into the light and I gasp at his sight. His coloring is not as porcelain white has it had been, he's flushed with color, his teeth protruding from his mouth showing his enlarged canine teeth stained with blood. His eyes are what trouble me the most, last I saw him his eyes were a deep dark brown, now they are pale blue. "Tobias, you'll never grow old and you'll never die. Join me and we shall live like kings among men."

"What of love, of the future? I don't wish to wander an eternity without a purpose," I whisper. I'm not sure why I'm arguing, I'm dying.

"Love," he scoffs. "You can love hundreds of times over in your lifetime. You can find new love with every century, several new loves even. What say you? Do you wish death or life? The time has come to choose your future."

Without looking at the man, I nestle further into my bed trying desperately to weigh the pros and cons with little success. My mind a jumble of the past, present, and future. The fading thoughts of a dying man. Then the realization that I do not wish death fills me with fear and longing for health and life. "I choose life," I tell him through gritted teeth. The pain of death taking over my body, I can feel my organs beginning to fail me.

He quickly and wordlessly swoops in and takes me. He presses his dagger-like nails into his skin and draws blood. He presses the open wound to my mouth and encourages me to drink.

"You must drink my son or death will take you. Drink and choose life."

Instincts take over my body and I begin to taste the blood that he offers of his own veins. I drain him as much as he allows and when he pulls away from me his skin has lost its luster, his eyes have returned to their original brown. And just when I start to feel some strength again, the pain and trembling begins.

"It's normal," Max tells me. "You mortal body is dying, it will be replaced by your immortal body. Your senses will be enhanced, you will no longer need food or water. The needs of humanity will no longer rule your life."

My body writhes in pain, like a thousand white hot pokers sticking into my skin and ripping out my insides. My mind's a jumble with thoughts of death and dying, pain and anguish. Nothing makes sense but then everything makes sense. I don't know how I will make it through… then suddenly everything stops. The pain, the jumbled thoughts, the fear, and anguish all gone faster than they came on me. Suddenly I can hear the heartbeat of someone that is not in this room, their breathing. I can hear the rustling of birds in the trees outside, the soft scamper of a field mouse that has made its way into the house. All of these sounds assault me as I try to move my limbs. I can feel the strength and power within me. I've never felt such might within me before.

"Not only are you stronger than you've ever been, you are faster and can smell and hear your victims before they are even aware of your presence," he explains. "Now as for your father…"

"I would have thought you would have gotten rid of him."

"No, that is not for me. In order for you to truly free yourself from the bane of your existence, you must be the one to choose life or death for him.

I quickly stand and look at Max, "Is it his heartbeat that I can hear drumming him my head?"

"I believe so," he affirms.

I stalk out of the bedroom, feeling every movement of air around me, hearing every creek and noise that the house makes. My footsteps lighter than they ever were in life, the treading of a predator tracking its prey. I enter the room of my father, he sits at his desk looking over some sort of paperwork. When he looks up at me he scowls, a deep disapproving look of loathing.

"Come back to beg for forgiveness? In order for forgiveness to occur, Tobias, you will have to suffer greatly."

"I will no longer suffer at your hand, Father. It is you who shall suffer for the last moments of your life."

He snickers at my words, causing me to feel the full capability within my newly transformed body. He stands before me as though he's going to punish me for my insolence, but when he lunges, what I once thought to be fast seems like slow motion now. His movements are jerky and slow compared to what I've become, the ultimate predator. Before he reaches me, I have him in my clutches and I've sunk my newly formed canine teeth into his rough skin. The taste of his skin on my tongue is bitter and salty, when his blood fills my mouth, it tastes of the sweetness of the beef and wine that he had for dinner. He barely struggles beneath my toxic kiss as I drain him of the life that his blood provided him.

When I've drained him into death, I lie his corpse onto the bed where he appears as though he's sleeping. The puncture holes in his neck are the only indication of any wrongdoing. I turn to find Max standing in the shadows, "Very well done. Very efficient. You are a natural predator. Now look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see."

I look at myself and the first thing I notice is the color of my usually dark blue eyes. They are now the same shade of blue that Max's was upon drinking my blood. "Your eyes will change when you drink. It is what allows vampires to see beyond normal human sight. It gives us the ability to see and stalk our prey with efficiency. It is the only indication that a human could have to identify vampires."

"Can we sense others like us?"

"You could hear the heartbeat of your father? You can probably hear the heartbeat of the slave that is currently in the kitchen, but can you hear my heartbeat?"

I listen intently and realize I hear nothing of him in this room. Aside from being able to see him here, I hear nothing coming from his body. "No, I hear nothing."

"That is because we no longer have a normal human heartbeat. The blood does indeed get pumped throughout our bodies, but the heart works in other ways to make that happen. I'm not an expert on exactly how and why our bodies work, but they do. As far as sensing others like us, it is possible but a rare gift. Most of us do not seek each other out. When we make companions, we travel together until it is no longer beneficial, then we go through the process of making another. There are covens of vampires in places around the world, but I haven't come across any personally."

I still stare at my image in the mirror. I still look the same however I also look very different from the man that I was just hours ago. The threat of my father gone and the future of possibility looming, I could do anything.

"The sun will be rising soon, Tobias. We must find sleep for the day. We cannot go out into the sun. There are few things that can bring the demise of a vampire, but the sun, silver, decapitation, and fire. Beyond these four things, there is little that will harm us."

"What about wooden stakes, I always heard…"

"That is Russian folklore. No such wood exists that could kill a vampire. Now the silver stake or any form of silver that can penetrate into the heart will kill the vampire, this includes silver bullets."

"Like the werewolf?"

"Silver has powerful attributes within that reacts with the supernatural body causing damage and death. The sun is deadly because it causes our skin to boil, and I believe decapitation and fire are both self-explanatory."

I nod at him. This is why he said that we are virtually eternal. The likely hood of death if we are careful is almost impossible.

"I'll show you to a guest room. But shouldn't we do something about my father's body? And what about Marguerite?"

"I believe she will be easily controlled. As far as his body, we should dispose of it before the sun rises."

We remove the body out of the back of the house and place it deep into the woods on the other side of the empty fields. If his body is found, it will be believed that he met a gruesome death by the hands of some wild predator and even if they find the holes in his neck, the death shouldn't be traced back to our home. With no blood spilled in the house there will be little that will come of the death and I as heir will take control of the plantation.

:::

Weeks pass with little changes in the plantation. They found my father deep in the woods with little meat left on his body. He was only identifiable by the large ring that he always wore. It was declared that he died of natural causes but then a pack of wild dogs or coyotes scavenged his body after he died. I played the part of the distraught son well, but my torturous attitude had nothing to do with his death. The power that came with overpowering him was soon gone and the realization of what I'd allowed myself to become was weighing on me. I was an unnatural being, a predator, a murder, and I hated myself for it. Self-loathing was quickly becoming a behavior that I wore on my sleeve.

I had begun to give more freedoms to the slaves that lived on my land, I allowed them to leave the plantation, not caring for one minute if they ran away or left for good. I didn't want them to see what I had become. I didn't want them to notice my new behavior or the behavior of my constant companion.

Max had moved permanently into the room that I gave him on that first night. He didn't like to hide his behavior, and it wasn't uncommon for him to take a stray slave for a meal, a practice that the superstitious men and women had noticed. They began to fear what was happening in their master's house. They didn't seem to suspect me, but they were terrified of Max.

One evening Marguerite stopped me in the kitchen to ask me what was happening.

"Maître, les esclaves sont terrifiés. Your compagnon is not of this world. He doesn't eat, or behave the way a normal man behaves. I am worried for you Maître, you do not have the same appetite as you had. You don't come out of your room during the day and you spend your nights in town."

"And how is that different, Marguerite? I've always enjoyed frequenting the pubs of Storyville."

She placed her hand on my cheek, having not fed yet today, my skin was probably chilled to the touch.

"Your skin is like ice, Maître. Please, tell me what has changed about you."

Her touch, so tender, her words so sweet. I had wanted to take comfort in her just weeks ago. I lean my head into her stomach and instead of feeling comfort as she strokes my hair, I only feel the draw of predator to prey. The smell of her sweet, soft skin, the sound of her heart beat and her blood rushing through her body make me crazy. As hard as I try to fight it, I know I will only be able to rest when her life's blood is running through my body. When the sound of her heartbeat has deadened and all the warmth is gone from her body.

I slowly move her hand from my face and kiss the palm of hand and her wrist. And just as I'm about to sink my teeth into her wrist, Max enters and pulls me away from her.

When she looks into my now changed eyes she lets out a shrill scream. "Maître, what has happened to you? What has happened to your eyes?"

"Go now Marguerite. Go now and don't come back. Tell the others they are released," I growl.

"But Maître. Throw out the monster that has taken over your home. Do not force me to go. I want to be here with you," she tells me.

I bear my teeth, allowing my elongated eye teeth to show. She gasps at the sight of me, "Un diable," she whispers. Tears streaming down her honey colored skin her voice rises and she begins to shout in hysterics, "Maître est un diable! Maître est un diable!"

"That's right, your master is the devil. Run, get out of here! Run!" I shout. I pick up a large candle and hurl it at her, "Exécutez, sors d'ici!"

She runs from the house shouting, "Maître est un diable! Maître est un diable!" The other slaves come running toward the house to see what she is shouting about. Several men try to enter the house, but I bear my teeth, threatening them. Their fear of the supernatural and of the vampire forces them to run away.

"Well, now you've done it," Max complains. "We can't stay here any longer."

I laugh at his words, hysterical with grief and the realization that I am a monster, est diable, the devil.


End file.
